Bonds Are Meant to Be Stretched
by Der Adler des Mondes
Summary: Dean simply wanted to get out of the bunker. He just wants to punch something and keep his family from doing the "sacrifice for the greater good" spiel. When a supernatural attack happens by the bunker, a few miles away, he sees his chance to get out and kick supernatural ass and vent, he didn't count on Cas coming along or shit hitting the fan from the hunt. Rewritten with a beta.
1. Chapter 1

_**Bonds Are Meant to Be Stretched, Feelings, like Hurt and Joy, Are Meant to Be Shared**_

**Pairing:** Established Destiel.

**Genre:** Hurt/Comfort, Angst, Drama.

**Beta:** Littleaprilroses.

**Warnings: **Blood, gore, spoilers for season 8, violence, pouty mouths and explicit sex scenes.

**Summary: **All Dean wanted to do was to get out of the bunker, to do something. Sam, getting weaker from the Trials, just wants to punch something and keep his brother from doing the "sacrifice for the greater good" spiel. So when a possible monster attack happens a few miles away on an unsuspecting town they jump at the chance to escape their own problems. Dean just saw it as a good chance to get out and kick some supernatural ass and vent a little steam. What he didn't count on was Cas wanting to tag along. He especially didn't expect the unfortunate aftermath of a hunt gone wrong. Will their profound bond be strong enough to hold them together or will it break?

SPN-

_Reality, Philip K. Dick had once said, is that which, when you stop believing in it, doesn't go away._

SPN-

A sobering fog of helplessness circled through the bunker against the contrasting bright lights. Three exhausted people lived within.

Sam and Dean sat across from one another, researching silently while Kevin rested soundly for the first time in months upstairs.

Dean was on the laptop; his jacket had been tossed on the chair next to him. He was loudly typing away at the laptop in an effort to find more research. So far it hasn't done him much good.

Sam was in a similar mood, brooding his way through the research. He sighed loudly as he turned page after page of a thick, dusty manuscript in an attempt to find more information on the Third Trial.

_Seriously though_, Sam thought to himself. _How exactly does someone go about curing a demon?_

Frustration finally claimed Dean when he realized that his research was going nowhere fast. Running a hand through his short hair he thumped his hand on the table in anger.

Looking up from the manuscript, Sam glared in annoyance at Dean. Shooting an equally as annoyed look back at Sam, Dean scoffed to himself.

So much for the good old days when information they were looking for was actually written down.

For Dean, this was much more than closing the gates of Hell. This was about fixing his family and friends.

Kevin would finally, for the first time in over a year, feel safe and maybe get back to being a normal kid.

Sam would start to get better from the damage the Trial's have inflicted on him so far and then hopefully return to _being_ Dean's little brother.

Finally, Cas would be with him and Dean _would_ make sure he was safe, dammit.

Dean wanted the weakened angel to have one less type of monster out for his head. Not to mention he wouldn't need to deal with demons like as Crowley or _Abbadon anymore._

His thoughts started to turn back to simpler times when his life was just about saving people, hunting things, the family business.

The monsters they fought regularly now left all the other ones in the dust.

It pissed Dean off that there was so much injustice in this world. That no matter what everything and everyone seemed to have a score to settle with him and Sam. That every fixed plan of theirs ended up destroyed.

Dean's thoughts then turned back to Sammy and his pain and suffering at the hands of Lucifer and the angel dick brigade. Then, to top it all off, he now had to worry about the Trials that were clearly taking a toll on his body and soul.

To Kevin, who lost his mom and is now stuck hiding in a bunker with their sorry asses until who knows when.

To Cas, who in his decision to side with him and Sam was rejected by his own family and Father.

Why? Why do they always need to be _stretched_ to their limits? Why couldn't God just pop in and pull an executive maneuver to right this world that has gone so wrong?

Dean would be a lot happier if Cas was here. Cas made him feel more at peace, more solid, when he was around.

Like Dean always had someone to fall back on because he knew he could trust the angel to catch him.

Dean had grown to love Cas just as much as he loved Sam, but in a decidedly different way. Much to his chagrin though the angel had stopped visiting as often as Dean would like recently.

The angel has been working with Metatron on some sort of special project. In his opinion, Metatron has given off bad vibes from the beginning.

Not that Dean isn't thankful for him saving Kevin but still.

Deep within his own sad musings he didn't notice or hear the flutter of feathers that heralded his lover's arrival, which was a first for the normally alert hunter.

Clad in his traditional trench coat and suit, Cas' face was neutral as usual when he gently deposited his plunder from the to a convenience store.

Even though the noise hadn't brought him back, the rebellious rumblings of his stomach made Dean snap out of his thoughts.

He turned his head in time to watch Cas pull out a chair and sit next to him, a bit closer than one would expect of course.

The noisy sound of Sam munching on the newly discovered convenience store food floated through the air around them.

Sam gestured towards the food."Thanks for the food Cas."

"You are welcome, Sam." Cas replied quietly without missing a beat. His eyes focused on Dean, filled with a silent longing.

Dean knowingly stared right back. He tried small talk. "Hey Cas, where've you been buddy?"

Castiel grabbed one of the numerous bags and reached in. Dean felt a small smile creep onto his face when Cas' hands now yielded a cherry pie.

He held it out for Dean to take, holding it with both hands as though he was making an offering to Dean.

"I'm sorry for being away for so long. I hope this helps." Castiel shifted awkwardly. "I was informed by Charlie that this would be a helpful thing to do."

Dean wasn't sure what to think of it, but he knew that he would have to check in and see what Charlie has been teaching Cas.

Despite his better judgment, he felt compelled to forgive Cas. On one hand, the angel's blue eyes were full of apologies and sorrow but on the other he was still pissed off at him for running off with the angel tablet and not trusting Dean.

For him to trust Cas again would be a huge leap of faith, but it would also bring him so much relief to be on good terms with the angel again.

"Thanks Cas." He said, smiling a bit and taking the pie. Cas's eyes visibly brightened, a happy demeanor overcoming him paired with gentle smile.

Dean sat the pie back on the table in front of him and grabbed a plastic plate and fork. Flipping the lid off he scooped some out onto the plate before he began to stuff himself with gusto.

Just finishing his own meal Sam grabbed a napkin and wiped his face.

"Hey, I'm gonna go and take some of this up to Kevin, alright?" He looked up, grabbing some of the food quickly and tucking it into his arm. It was pretty clear to Sam that he should leave the hunter and angel alone for a while.

"Sure." Dean replied with disinterest, only stopping his pie feast when he felt the weight of someone's stare on him.

He looked up only to see Cas was still staring at him, the glib smile still lighting up his normally somber, expressionless face.

As soon as Sam left Dean spoke carefully. "Hey Cas, if you needed help with something you'd tell me right? You'd tell me if something's wrong?" A slightly desperate tone entered his voice and Dean couldn't help but reach over and rest a reassuring hand on the angel's shoulder.

Cas briefly looked downwards before looking up to meet Dean's eyes.

"Yes, of course Dean." He said with such certainty that Dean felt he could actually trust him. As much as he hated chick flick moments this was one time that he could take for the team.

He got up and scooted his chair closer to Cas. When the chairs were close enough he sat back down and pulled Cas into a tight bear hug.

"Cas I don't know what I would do without you anymore. I once said you were family and I meant it. Sammy and you, you guys are my life. I hope you realize that I love you… Maybe even more than just family."

Dean felt a sensation of nervousness fill him, moving around his stomach like butterflies. He just wanted things to go back to being normal between him and Cas, but he also wanted so much more.

Cas, stood still in the hug for a long moment as if he were contemplating it. Finally, he slowly and methodically brought his own arms up and around Dean's waist tightly, holding him close.

"C'mon, let's go to bed Cas." Dean mumbled, pulling the angel up along with him. He ignored the remaining food on the table in favor of aggressively kissing Cas up and down his neck and chest as they walked.

They both stumbled up spiral wooden stairs and down the long hallway full of many different. They snuck carefully pass unknowing Kevin and Sam as the two ate alone in their respective rooms.

Finally at the far end of the hallway a door bearing the names _Cas & Dean __appeared_. They try not to slam the door shut to loud but they don't exactly make an effort to be quiet about it either..

Away from any possibly prying eyes they unleashed the rest of their pent up lust for one another.

Dean is always taken aback, at the fury of Cas' want. The angel leaves no room for doubt or hesitation when he pushes Dean onto the bed and tears off his clothing.

The hunter doesn't resist this in the least, instead reveling in Cas' possessive nature. It makes him feel loved, owned, _wanted._

He assists Cas as they go, raising his arms here and there, moving a limb or two to adjust.

Halfway to blessed buck nakedness, Dean returned Castiel's enthusiasm. Yanking at his coat he made quick work of pulling his trench coat off and flinging it across the room.

He followed this by pulling off Cas' tie, suit jacket and shirt quickly, buttons almost tearing off because of his over excitement.

The only piece of clothing that remained between them was their pants.

Cas paused, sending the hunter a soft smile as he patiently waited for Dean's consent.

He always did this no matter how much Dean obviously wanted it. Cas knew that because of Dean's issues with Zachariah and Michael consent was important to him.

Dean simply nodded eagerly and they back on track as though there hadn't been any pause.

Their belts, pants and underwear came off one by one until both were both fully exposed to the elements.

Relaxing into Dean's arms Castiel uttered words of comfort and peace into his ear.

"I love you Dean."

SPN-

_Thanks for reading! Please take the time to review on this chapter._


	2. Angel Cuddles and Moose Arguments

I see new torments and new souls in pain

About me everywhere, wherever I turn

Away from grief I turn to grief again

Page 46, Line 6 of _Dante's Inferno_

**SPN-**

Dean awoke to a Cas curled up around him possessively like a contented cat. It was clear from how tightly he was clinging to the hunter that Cas craved all of Dean of the physical contact he could get.

Dean liked that Cas was willing attempt the act of sleeping despite the fact that even with his waning angelic powers he didn't technically need to. He would never admit this to his brother, but Dean kinda loved these rare chick-flick moments of cuddling and safety between him and his angel.

Carefully, he turned his head to the right, slowly as to not stir Cas slumber. Looking down at the clock he silently swore to himself when it read 9:32AM in bold numbers.

Glancing back one more time to Cas's peaceful face and smiled fondly. As much as he hated to admit it, they really needed to get up and start working. After all, there were things to do and gates of Hell to close.

He gently shook Cas awake and watched as the angel stirred tiredly before sitting up, a contented sigh passing through his lips. Cas rewarded Dean with a small smile and Dean couldn't help but chuckle the angel's bed head.

Castiel leaned forward to rest his head in the crook of Dean's neck, starting to press small kisses into the soft skin before attempted to halfheartedly snake an arm around Dean's waist to drag him back under the warm covers.

"C'mon, Cas, we got to get up." Dean chided, running his fingers through Cas's hair and down his chest playfully. Cas released a small mumbled complain against this and started to lean back towards the pillows.

"You know…" Dean murmured out innocently. "I should probably take a shower today…" Cas interest clearly flared at that, looking none-too-subtly back at Dean from his numerous pillows. Filled with curiosity and want.

"I could use some help if you wanted." Dean offered, grinning widely before getting up from the messy bed and making a show of walking towards the bathroom. Dean smiled smugly, knowing what was coming next from the low, aroused growl that sounded from behind him.

A moment later Dean found himself in their white, spacious, bathroom and bent over to turn on the water and adjust the hot and cold knobs.

Dean stepped inside the large shower and sighed loudly in relief as water that was the perfect temperature hit his skin. A small grin lit up his face once again at the sound of Cas opening the door and entering the shower. The angel stepped up close behind him and grabbed a washcloth from the nearby tray.

Cas covered the rough cloth in Dean's favorite body wash and started to carefully scrub down the hunter, making sure not to miss any part. Dean groaned lowly in delight and leaned back into the angel's chest for support; support that Cas was more than happy to provide.

The minutes passed as they slowly cleaned each other in silence, exchanging brief kisses every once in a while. They relished their time together, alone or otherwise a lot more these days considering all the uncertainty that laid before them.

The peaceful atmosphere of comfort was suddenly broken by the obnoxiously loud sound of Sam's complaining and banging at their door.

"Dean! Cas! Get up already, food is done!" He shouted through the door with no degree of patience.

Dean was about to shout back at Sam to screw off when the younger hunter spoke again. "There's some of pie left over from last night by the way!" Added Sam before heading back to the dining room area.

He knew the key to getting the two lovebirds out of their nest and it was through Dean's stomach.

"Time to go see what Sammy and Kevin are up to I guess." Dean's sighed, giving the angel a mischievous smile. "We are totally picking this up were we left off later Cas."

Cas chuckled and shook his head fondly. "You're insatiable." He scolded kindly, pressing one more soft kiss to Dean's lips before the sound of feathers erupted around them.

Dean never failed to appreciate Cas's powers. One they were both wet as dogs and the next towel-dry and fitted with a set of clothes in the Batcave's outdated but none-the-less luxurious kitchen.

The kitchen was amazing, yielding plenty of counter space and the typical adornments of a kitchen back in the 60's or 70's. They lucked out when the kitchen also happened to have an extra surprise with it; two fridges.

Dean had claimed the smaller of the two as "his", leaving the one double its size for Sam and Kevin.

Amongst other things, it was often overfilled with different kinds of beer and pie. The food of the gods according to Dean.

The kitchen was connected to a dining room, almost the double the size of the library. More the size of a cafeteria really than a dining room. It kinda reminded Dean of the Green Room that Zachariah zapped him to.

In it sat Kevin and Sam at the end of the huge table that almost completely spanned the length of the room.

"It's about time you guys showed up. I surprised that I was actually was able to you two down here." Sam teased, clearly knowing what events transpired the night before.

Dean flushed and scowled playfully at his little brother.

"Shut up bitch!" Ordered Dean, returning Sam's teasing with his own friendly, easy banter.

"You first jerk!" Sam shot back, easily falling into the friendly sibling banter they'd perfected over the year.

Cas and Dean sat down next to the two plates of eggs and bacon that Kevin had already dished up. The kid was desperate to keep himself busy lately ever since he finished decoding the Demon Tablet's trials.

Dean noticed that amongst the piles of plates and books that Sam's laptop was out, the blinking light indicating its sleeping state. Lately Sam had been looking more towards the Men of Letter's library for the information he needed rather than his laptop.

Dean figure now was as good a time as any to start looking for new hunts nearby. He usually looked up the local news top thing in the morning for any indication of shit coming their way, now was best to use it.

Looking about the table, Sam and Kevin were deep in a conversation and pointed and flipping through an old blue book that clearly displayed its age by yellowed and ripped pages.

Cas was sitting quietly and marveling the plate before him. Not quite use to being human yet, Castiel still found an amusing amount of awe out of even the most simplest acts like eating.

Satisfied that nothing required his immediate attention, Dean went about his morning research.

Unlike his usual brief skimming through the local news outlets, today was different. There were news of mauled peoples out in the outskirts of a nearby town and witnesses saying they heard howling and growling.

This didn't concretely point towards supernatural activity but they'd checked things out for less information than that. You could never be too safe these days.

From what he could scrounge up the reports were making him lean towards possible Wendigo attacks. Dean smiled a bit, relieved to finally have a potential case. He was sick and tired of sitting around doing nothing but researching.

The one problem to his newfound plan was that Sam would want to come with on the hunt, which was an issue because Sam still wasn't all that well as an after effect of the trials.

Between his exhaustion, coughing up tons of blood and weight loss, Dean didn't want to risk taking Sam on a hunt just yet. Kevin was definitely, because as great of a researcher as the teenager was, he wasn't a hunter and Dean wouldn't risk him getting hurt.

That just left Cas, and after all the crap with Metatron recently he doesn't think he would. Cracking his neck to relieve the tension, Dean smiled.

A solo hunt it is then.

"Hey guys, I'm going out for a while." Dean announced, closing the laptop andgrabbing his coat on his way out. It was times like this that Dean was grateful he store most of his hunting and travel gear in the Impala.

"Dean." Came a lone voice behind him, making him pause. _Damn!_ Dean swore to himself mentally. He'd been hoping that he could get out before anyone thought to ask where he was going.

Dean turned casually towards the rest of the group, trying not to give anything away in his body language

Sam had a laptop open with a clear "got'cha" look on his face

"Where you going Dean?" Asked Sam, his voice all neutral.

"Out." Dean said evasively.

"Hunting?" Sam responded instantly, voice now holding an accusatory edge.

Fuck! That kid was way too smart for his own good dammit. Dean knew lying wouldn't do him any good in this situation. They'd both perfected reading each other's poker faces a long time ago for instances just like this.

"Yea." Dean admitted a bit guiltily, avoiding Sam's eyes.

"C'mon dude, I thought we were over this. You can't just be leave me behind on hunts Dean, we're partners!" Sam's voice was angry and indigant.

"Look, Sam, it would be best if you stayed here. You know, you should rest-" Dean went on before being loudly interrupted.

Sam interrupted. "-And what? Let you to go hunting alone? Dean, don't you get it? Two hunters are better than one , you know that. Besides, you're my brother so you have to get how crappy I feel when I think about how you're out there potentially risking your life while I sit here and eat Ben and Jerry's? No fucking way Dean." Sam's anger seemed to be growing slowly but steadily.

This is getting out of hand fast and Dean knew he was going to lose the fight quickly if he couldn't come up with something.

Suddenly, glancing over to Kevin, an idea occurred to him and he ran with it.

"What about Kevin, Sam? Who's going to protect him while we're gone? Are we just gonna leave him to possibly get ambushed my demons looking for Crowley?" Dean asked, playing on Sam's protective nature over Kevin ever since they'd saved him. It was a low blow but if it meant keeping Sam out of harm's way Dean had no problem pulling that card.

"Well, Kevin can just stay here and lock up behind us. The bunker is practically everything proof Dean, I don't see anything getting in. Besides Dean, you know it's safer and quicker when we work together. You need help more right now than Kevin does." Sam reasoned, his " lawyer logic" as Dean liked to call it in full effect.

Dean's overprotective big brother instincts were warring against his more rational side. He couldn't decide what was more important, protecting his little brother from any possible harm or healing the rift between them.

"I will go with you on the hunt." A new voice announced suddenly.

Castiel's calm and collected voice cut through the loud argument, ushering in silence between the brothers.

"Cas? I thought you had things to do." Dean asked, unable to deny the sense of relief he felt at the angel's offer.

"I do, but those can be postponed while I accompany you." He said simply.

Well, this wasn't how he'd expected things going down but Dean certainly wasn't going to look a gift horse in the mouth.

"There you go Sam. Cas will come with me so I have back up and you can watch over Kevin while we're gone, okay? Good." Dean said, not waiting for an answer before he walked over to stand next to Cas.

Sam relented with a small nod, relaxing back into his chair as the tension faded from his shoulders.

"Keep him safe Cas." Sam ordered, voice holding a note of uncertainty.

"I will." Castiel promised calmly.

**SPN- **


	3. Setting Off

We came to the edge of the forest where one goes

From the second round to the third, and there we saw

What fearful arts the hand of justice knows

Pg 116 line 6 - _Dante's Inferno_

**SPN-**

Instead of zapping to the car, as expected. Dean and Cas walked through the bunker, picking up miscellaneous materials and some new FBI identities he had made in his spare time. Cas simply followed along, like a puppy following his charge.

By the time they reached the car, Dean had one thing to ask.

"You sure 'bout this Cas? Because I can handle it. You could go off and do your mojo with Metatron." He called out, as he opened the Impala's driver door, but not stepping in.

"Dean, I assured your brother you would be safe. This is the most efficient method of doing so." He responded, awkwardly getting in the car. Too used to simply popping in.

"Look, I don't want to be a burden on you…" Dean started, facing Cas.

"Dean. You are not a burden on me. I enjoy the time I spend with you. It is my desire to spend time with you. I… feel better with you." Admitted Cas, looking away just this once.

Dean was visibly shocked as he entered the car, head tilted, a clear marker he was picking up Cas's habits, starting up the engine, but not gunning it.

"Cas, you don't know how much that makes me happy. Chick-flick moment or not." Dean finished by reaching over with his hand to cup Ca's cheek and pull him into a kiss.

Cas relaxed into the kiss and was by no means a passive observer, reaching in with his tongue to explore Dean's mouth. Tasting of booze, eggs, bacon and pie.

"Alright, let's go hunting!" Dean remarked, throwing a genuine smile for the first time in many years.

The town of Sifota, population 1500, was a tough place, by necessity. The area earned its keep by the lumber business, forest by forest. The people within the town usually fell into one of three groups: the suckers, the hordes and the cons. The loggers were much akin to the miners of old, moving with the companies they worked with to new "deposits" of forests. Hordes were the ones who preyed on the loggers via certain methods, such as providing services at pay-by the hour motels or food on a truck. Such services were easy to pick and go. Cons, which were usually the locals, the ones who were here before the onslaught, were the shopkeepers, the bar tenders and above all the landlords and motel owners. They frequently jacked up prices on days of payday and otherwise manipulated prices for their gain. Of course, not all were like that, but that was the pattern. Such a pattern was broken, when a foreigner from out of town breaks the mold.

Dean steered the Impala, down an apartment street, the area was a decent one. Not abandoned or fancy just middle class, with copy and paste buildings, with a slightly different colour here and there. There were a few children playing, but overall the overcast and moody nature of the weather seemed to deter most from venture out. Stopping in front of an apartment complex marked with 2234 A-F.

"Alright, Cas its go time." Dean put the car in park, and pat down his suit for any signs of tear or divine dust. He was kinda iffy on the poofing of clothes, was real handy but sometimes he just knew there had to be some counter to it. Magic side effect. He wouldn't be surprised. Then again, it was Cas. He knew Cas would never hurt him or allow anything to even _touch_ him.

Satisfied everything was in order, Dean got out of car with one swift move and loudly closed the door, not quite slamming but not gentle either. Then he walked up, with swiftness in his stride. He knew Cas would follow.

Dean really wanted to get to the bottom of this. There had been two more deaths within the time span of a _few hours._ They were visiting these two surviving family members who might be just their best lead.

After finding their target apartment, two floors up. Dean was rapping on the door.

A young woman, probably early 20's, blonde hair that boarded on the hue of gold and brown eyes as brown as wood, opened the door hesitantly.

"Who are you?" She asked, seductively, showing most of her body, in her skimpy tank top and shorts.

"Hello, ma'am, I'm Agent Booth and this is Agent Bones, we're with the FBI. Here to investigate the series of attacks by- animals?" Dean blurted out with practiced motion, and as one Dean and Cas pulled out their FBI badges. Dean glancing sideways, checking to make sure Cas's wasn't upside down.

"Oh hello Agents, come in." She gestured towards her home, and went off to what looked to Dean as a kitchen.

"Would you Agents like coffee or tea?" She asked, moving some pots and cups around.

"No, thank you Ma'am." Dean offered. Cas repeating the same.

They as a group went to the centre of the apartment, a living room with a loveseat couch.

Dean sat down on the offered spot on the couch and the woman quickly sat next to him, taking much of his personal space.

Cas was forced to pull a chair from the kitchen, to join them.

"So uh, Sarah was it?" Dean asked pulling out a notebook, and clicking a pen.

"Yes." Was her rapt reply, her hand on Dean's knee.

Dean spared a glance at Cas, and could tell Cas was beginning to form the curious urge to strangle her.

"Ah, yes, according to police statements, you were working with your brother, at the edge of the forest, dealing with paper-work when you saw a big animal maul your cousin." Dean read off his notebook, desperately trying to avoid eye contact. Unusual for him, but he was with Cas damn it and he wasn't one to cheat he was an all in or not at all kind of guy, as he was with Lisa for a brief time or at the very least if he needed to flirt for work or otherwise he would't do it in _front _of he was dating with, let alone someone he was permanently with. He knew of Cas's protective urges, and violent ones too at that.

"Yes, my brother got a better look at it than I did, but it was tall, man like but I could of sworn it had a muzzle and claws." She spoke, voice smooth as honey, a siren.

But Dean wasn't buying _it_, but he also knew he must hurry to finish this.

"Oh okay, ma'am, we must go, thanks for the assistance." Dean quickly rose, shaking her hand and could feel Cas's palm help lead him out.

The moment they were out and out of sight out. Dean turned to hug and grasp at Cas, as though he wanted to climb him, and attacked Cas's mouth. Cas graciously returned the presented motions and emotions.

Breaking out of the kiss, Dean attacked Cas's eyes while he whispered "Cas, you know I only have eyes for you right?"

Cas's only response was to pull Dean further in, and to bring his mouth to Dean's ear.

"Mine." Cas growled. Possessively pawing at Dean.

"Yours." Dean responded.

A phone going off, broke the intimate moment.

"Agent Booth speaking." Dean introduce, affection lost and his agent demeanour returning.

After several, "go on"s and "uh huhs". Dean closed his phone. He knew Cas heard every word, so he didn't bother to reiterate the whole enchilada.

"So, to the chick's brother we go?" He sighed.

The bar was noisy, as most bars often are, but also sparsely packed. The feeling of crowdness didn't come from numbers but from the mood of the place.

Still clad in his FBI suit, and once again Dean searched the bar for "the brother". Who managed to get kicked out of several bars, and Dean still hasn't found him.

Just his luck, big bro was a muscle man playing pool in the back end of the bar.

Donning his FBI mask, Dean went in.

"Excuse me, sir, but are you the Jack Donnely who was present at the death of Shaun Donnely?" Dean asked, bravado and legitimate confidence mixing together.

"I might be, who's asking?" Turned the giant, at 7'1'' he was taller than Sammy, bulkier too. Something out of a cartoon show, with the gruff giant.

He noticed Cas first. Poking him in the shoulder.

"So, two little boys in suits." He patted Cas's head. "…what are you doing away from home?" Giving a shove, which didn't give due to angelic strength. Dean was beginning to have enough.

"Scram before you get hurt." He made a gesture universally known for as a death threat.

That did it.

Dean quicker than, one of the giant's thought processes and nimbler than his hands. Tripped, shoved and caught one of the giant's hands on his back, twisting painfully, leaning him on the pool table.

Cas was at his back, blade drawn to the other members of the dumb, and dumber posse. His unnerving demeanour, cold stare, promising violence and death to one who dared intervene.

"Look, I was going to ask nicely. Play time's over pal." Dean gave the arm a good twist until the man squeaked in pain.

"So, I'm not going to say it twice. Cough up what you saw, and we'll be on our merry way." Dean managed to convey such a sincere voice laced with a deadly double meaning.

"Fine, Fine, I saw blue-black beast man. Tall, with huge claws and bear like feat. His head half seemed like a lion, furry like on too, and also had the muzzle of a dog. That's all I remember I swear!" By the end of the tumbling speech, Dean finally let go.

"Let's go." Was all Dean said, then once they reached the fresh paradise which was outside. "We're going wendigo hunting."

**SPN-**

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	4. Hunting

In the middle of the journey of our life

I found myself within a dark woods

Where the straight way was lost.

-_Dante's Inferno, New Verse Translation (Separate from previous quotes)_

**SPN-**

The drive towards the outskirts of town and the region of forest where the attacks occur was met with Dean humming along his favourite Led Zeppelin track whilst Cas simply sat in silence, looking ahead yet also satisfied with keeping a steady single hand on Dean's right.

The drive itself wasn't all that long, the sun was setting out in the distance, but getting by some pesky interlopers took a bit working out. They had to park a bit off to escape them, but they managed to shake them off, they will have to be careful when coming back out, witnesses weren't happy with seeing blood on clothing or shotguns or swords. Dean admitted that he or rather _they_ could have avoided all these troubles and messes and taking Impala in the first place, by zapping about via angel express, but he really wanted an honest-to-goodness hunt, that meant Impala. Plus he didn't think leaving his baby behind would be healthy for her or for himself anyway.

Most of the area of attacks had been cordoned off from "normal" civilians. They weren't normal by a long shot, and could reasonably argue civilian wasn't a proper descriptor either. They were, after all, an angel with _Angel of Heaven – defunct _in his CV, a hunter with crap to his name, starting the freaking Apocalypse and breaking the first seal and more, and of course _fate's bitch._ Not they weren't normal, at all.

Parking the Impala further in, within the thick evergreen trees, ancient and towering , that hid the Impala from any would be onlookers on the street. Dean jumped out with practiced ease, a fish within water, and a hunter within his natural environment. He popped open the trunk and grabbed some left over flares from past hunts, handing one to Cas.

"Do we need…these…items?" Cas asked, perplexed and with a head tilt gestured to an Angel Blade hidden within his coat.

"Well, we could use your fancy blade, but flares are what ya supposed to use, at least do me this one, Cas?" Dean spoke, closing the trunk and grabbing his shotgun, a silent plead that betrayed his willingness to give if Castiel pushed it.

"As long as you remain safe, and the beings vanquished." Cas relinquished, following Dean into the woods, and towards the cordoned off areas.

Three hours, several old logging outposts one decked with a church and the comforts of a town later, they were deep into the woods, night had finally fallen and only their flashlights and the gaze of the full moon to guide them onto the tracks they had been following, looking for men-wolf creatures, with a harking for human flesh.

Dean's happier mood earlier had turned sour after tromping about in the underbrush of the forest for consecutive hours, with no results to be found.

"Seriously, what wendigo goes so far off their area of attacks?" Dean grumbled, he honestly had been expecting a rather easier hunt both in terms of time and effort.

Suddenly the tracks stopped. Dean released a moan of complaint "Great, smart wendigos. Man, I hope that they -"

Dean was cut off when; there was a ruffle of noise and the rather sudden appearance in his peripheral vision of _a fracking BEAST,_ taller than he remembered wendigos being.

His moment of stilling amazement was almost fatal, for in the beast's lunge, a shiny blade glistening in the moon's light, appeared within the monster's chest. The blade was removed, the beast dropped, revealing a standing Castiel.

"I coulda done it Cas!" Bemoaned Dean.

"I was not about to let it, _touch_ you." Cas announced, deadly threat lingering in his voice. Dean jumped, when he came from behind to grasp Dean's shoulder possessively. His face yielding no quarter on that argument.

"Well, that wraps up today's festivities." Dean said, cracking his knuckles and rolling his neck. "Wendigos are a pack of one, after all."

After salting and burning the body of the huge and now non-threatening wendigo, they began the long trek back to the Impala. Dean still insisting on no angelic mojo, after all: _This is going to be a regular hunt and nothing more!_

They walked silently, with casual interruptions of Dean's random comments, stepping on a twig or two along the way, basking in each other's presence and for Dean satisfaction in a job well done.

The crickets loudly pronounced their calls, having become a regular background noise to the stark night. The same of which, Dean didn't notice when it silenced.

"Dean, get behind me." Cas uttered, urgency shining well and clear.

"Cas, Wha—" Dean began, and for the second time that night was aggressively interrupted.

A series of growls and yellow eyes shone all around them, they were trapped in a circle. Him gun out and flare ready, backed by Cas pointing his blade, in a much more threating manner, aligning with his stance of readiness. A tiger ready to pounce to protect her cubs.

Four silent beats, coinciding with his heart passed, as the number of wendigos grew from manageable to _oh fracking shit!_ Four heartbeats, before either party, the hunters or the prey moved aggressively, until then, they circled. Growling, howling, as wolves circling their prey.

As one, they attacked, hurling to the group.

Shots fired, blade keening, howls and groans echoed in that one moment, and for eternity. The number of wendigos climbed downwards, as one-by-one they were dispatched, despite the seemingly endless number of them.

Dean could see out of the corner of his eye, Cas dispatching each wendigo swiftly and with flow as he though he was simply dancing. It was mesmerizing, but the hungry sounds at his side, ripped him back into reality, shooting at them in response.

He couldn't do as much damage as Cas could. So he went for a stalling technique, keeping them off while Cas would come around, plunging his blade into his next target.

He really couldn't believe it. So many wendigos. _Since when did they join up in these kinds of numbers?_

There were so many, surrounding them, sure of their meal. One lunged for Cas's unprotected back.

"No!" Dean shouted, placing himself in front, catching the attack instead of Cas.

Dean felt it catch him by the side, taking the leverage, heaving upwards with its giant claws, ripping into Dean's chest, as knife through butter. Dean gurgled a cry of pain, his world tilting, ground rushing to meet him and black spots appearing in his eyes, as he called to his lover. "Cas!"

Whipping around, Cas didn't think twice when he shouted, "Close your eyes!"

With knowledgeable foresight, Dean slammed his eyes shut, hitting the ground, still reeling from the wendigo's attack. Churching into a fetal position, gasping in pain.

There seemed a thousand screams of pain, and then an eerie silence fell, as many thumps could be heard, of wendigos dropping like flies.

A lone thud, he saw Cas lidding to his knees by his side, fear and worry written across his face. He didn't like that, no Cas should be happy and safe. He wanted to reach up and grasp his cheek, to kiss him, but he found he couldn't, things were starting to dim, as his mind was deciding time to check out.

Seconds or moments later, he stirred, climbing through the fog and faintly he could tell of movement off his side, he realized _Cas._ Cas's pair of warm hands grasped his shoulders, pulling him up into a warm chest, murmuring words of assurances and comfort, that he couldn't understand.

He felt as though he was underwater, his head pounding and his chest felt on fire, his sides slick with something wet, he struggled to breathe, to reassure Cas, the presence he felt, to say he was fine, when he clearly was not.

He noticed Cas move around, hands briefly leaving his shoulders, and suddenly a tan trench coat covered him, only now he began noticing the biting cold, he realize the coat was being used as a blanket and a way to stench the probable flow of blood from his chest.

Then, he was being hauled upwards, his stomach lurching in reaction to this awkward treatment, he briefly realized he was being held bridal style, clutched tightly, he opened his mouth to crack a comment of complaint when everything rolled and the void claimed him.

**SPN-**

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	5. All things come falling down

Then shall each soul before the seat of Mercy

Return to its sad grace and flesh and form

To hear the edict of Eternity

Pg50 line 93 -_ Dante's Inferno_

**SPN-**

Castiel Point of View Change

**SPN-**

Castiel was _edgy_. He felt a part of the forest's darkness disappear when he lept to his mate's defence, plunging a blade into the interloper. Despite Dean's rather adamant cries of victory and of a successful hunt, Castiel worried.

The darkness that marked the forest as a haven of supernatural activity to his angelic senses did not dissipate upon the death of the lone "wendigo" as Dean called it. The darkness only seemed to roil, as waves cascade upon the beach, in anger. It became suffocating, closing on them, and surrounding them.

Castiel thought this might be simply a remnant of the wendigo's activites, echoed memories of black magic; getting stronger the closer they moved to where the murders happened.

He really couldn't tell these days, as he is greatly weakening. He knew Dean might be aware of his condition, but not the extent of its affect. He also knew, that he would have used his powers, should Dean have wished. He found it strange, this feeling he had for Dean. He knew it was love, this surge of protectiveness, a desire to stake a claim, but it was foreign. It was good.

Yes, he enjoyed the feeling. This feeling moved him to be cautious, to be protective, to ensure no harm fell upon his charge.

Which is why, when the crickets fell upon silence and the darkness seemed to take on a life of its own, he wasted no time summoning his blade and urging Dean behind him.

Unlike Dean, his angelic senses allowed him to see the full profiles of each and every wendigo that surrounded them, and to feel the perversion of emotions that whipped as whirlwinds within them; Their hunger for flesh, for food, greatly showing, but above all their thirst for revenge of a fallen pack member.

They had them surrounded, yellow eyes upon eyes, Castiel quickly though of ways to dispose of them, without bringing his mate to harm.

He knew he could simply used his angelic powers to incapacitate them all, should he wish. He also was keenly aware that this would drain him. He did not wish to leave Dean vulnerable, should he attempt it and leave some wendigos alive due to being out of his divine reach.

He vaguely noticed Dean pulling his tools of trade, gun and flare in his hands, his back to his back.

With a trembling sigh, he weaved his blade into a defensive stance. Waiting for the first strike.

The wendigos struck first, but First Blood went to the hunters, Castiel staking a wendigo through his head with twist of his blade. The actions of all wendigos at once were too much for a human mind to keep up, but for Castiel it was a rather effortless task. He moved wendigo to wendigo, target to target, kill to kill, all in a swift dance of death. Castiel's face bared no sympathy for those who wished to harm his mate.

He was attacking, defending, striking, dodging, paring, weaving through the packs. His mind occupied with dispatching them all.

His concentration shattered when a lighting bolt struck through him, a crack in the air, a cry, his name, his hunter. Dean.

Twisting around, as though he teleported to the same spot, simply reversing. He mind filled with rage and worry, at the sight of his hunter. Hurt, in pain, chest ripped open. A wendigo standing over him, ready to deal the death blow.

He spared no thought for himself, no concern, except for Dean. He had no internal debate, no hesitation, when he coiled his Grace to him and shouted for Dean to close his eyes.

The air stilled, as Cas's grace shot out, a supernova of angelic light, emanating from the central point of Cas. Hitting each and every wendigo, causing cries of pain and death.

Cas then halted his pour of Grace, reeling it back in, as a fisherman would reel his line. With no degree of finesse, he was anxious to get to his hunter with worry flooding him.

The light faded, into the back of his mind, and he then reached the high of his frantic worry.

He rushed to his hunter, his knees dropping on his side. He gently touched him, assessing, caressing, murmuring. He willed his well of Grace, only to find he was topped out, as Dean would say. He cried a shout of frustration.

Thinking quickly, he remembered of an abandoned logger outpost, not far from here. He took of his trench coat, wrapping Dean protectively in it, and hefting him up in his arms, without breaking a sweat, ignoring the weak cries of protest.

He marched forward, faster than he could remember before. His chest yearned for Dean to simply stand up, bat Cas's hands away and complained that he was fine. He will not lose his hunter, he _can not _lost his hunter.

The brisk pace Castiel had begun allowed his to arrive to the outpost in record time. His eyes scanned quickly for the building with the best shelter that could be provided. Out of all the buildings, only one looked in surprising good condition.

The old town-hall style church, its outside white colour fading to grey, but unlike the others its roof stood still and proud.

Castiel entered, storming through the congregation hall, to a back room, fitted with beds, a massive altar stood in the middle surrounded by a prayer circle, backed by a window typical of classical church paintings.

He distinctly remembered the smell of the combination of blood and antiseptic that frequently marked rooms and buildings with infirmaries. He followed it, to this back room, this back room was particularly strong in it, and this back room might save his mate.

He gently laid his hunter down on the closest bed, and smelled for the antiseptic. A plan brewed in his mind, as he summoned the memories of the brothers patching each other.

He followed the smell, like a bee to honey, stumbling upon closets full of medical equipment and emergency materials such as candles. He grabbed several handfuls, mindful to take what was necessary according to his memories.

He rushed back to his hunter side, his trench coat still covering him, his hunter turning a shade of white and death. Castiel's whole being screamed in agony, at watching his hunter in pain, so vulnerable without his active presence. What once filled the room now simply was a shade of itself.

Looking over the equipment, he stilled himself.

Sitting by his hunter's side, he gently, but quickly used a pair of scissors to cut away the rest of the ruined shirt. Fully revealing the state of affairs that was was his hunter's chest.

Taking a needle, dipping it in alcohol to sterilize it, he promptly set out. He began stitching, as he had watched the brothers do before, the mighty gaping cuts that were no little paper cuts. Three parallel lines. They began from Dean's side, running all the way up to just under his right shoulder. Deep enough to cause potential blood loss and requiring considerable bed rest, he wasn't sure if an organ had been damaged as well, deepening his well of concern.

Once he finished stitching up Dean. He carefully applied swaths of bandages. Tightening the hold of his trench coat over Dean. Dean normally would be cracking a joke about a mummy, right about now, Castiel's mind recoiling in pain at the thought of it.

He reached up to touch Dean's sleeping form, tracing his fingers from his waist, caressing the bandages, following them up to his neck, finally lingering on his cheek. His palm cupping his face, grasping any lingering Grace he had and pushed it into his hunter, healing internal injuries but not all. Faint traces of wings briefly appeared, floating behind him, with the moonlight causing light to dance about them.

He felt, annoyed with himself, angry even. He could have prevented this. He should have been more careful, more attentive to Dean's condition. Castiel's dark thoughts were broke, by the hoot of an owl, reminding him of the darkness.

Whilst he did not need the additional light, his hunter would want it, might even be concerned.

He lit a candle and set it by them. The glow of the candle combining with the moon's ray shining through the window and falling on top of them, creating the illusion of a whole, Dean and Castiel, surrounded by darkness.

Castiel sat, watching his hunter's sleeping form. Anxious for him to awake. To assure Castiel that he would be all right. He hoped that perhaps he could recover some more of his Grace to help speed the recovery, for he knew Dean would feel terrible at the mention of rest and uselessness.

He knew Dean was in no condition to be walking.

**SPN-**

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	6. Pass the Guilt, Please

Do not be afraid; our fate

Cannot be taken from us; it is a gift.

_-Dante's Inferno, New Verse Translation (Separate from previous quotes)_

**SPN-**

Dean Point of View Change

**SPN-**

Dean was tired, bone tired. His limbs wouldn't obey, his breath came in short gasps and coughs. He felt like he came out the wrong end of a bar fight. Maybe he did. That might be why he felt a bed underneath him. Sam would have dragged him home.

Wait. No. Sammy weak. Sammy home. Sammy with Kevin.

No. _"Hey Cas, we're going wendigo hunting!"._

Vague impressions of past activity came rushing back. His concern for Cas boiled over until it reached a tipping point, when he remembered a wendigo lunging for Cas.

He had to find out about Cas. He had to find out if he was safe.

He attempted to open his eyes and sit up, rushing up. He only succeeded in one of his two goals.

He was immediately assaulted by a cracking pain in his chest, as though someone just banged a hammer onto it, forcing him to breathe through a straw. He was immediately heaving, gasping for breath and stilling himself, willing the pain to go away.

Hands came and eased him back onto the bed. Soft murmurings in a tongue he didn't understand soothed his pacing heart.

Slowly by surely, his breaths came at a more reasonable intervals. It was easier to breathe too.

Dean gingerly turned his head towards the source of those hands. He was met with an unbelievable sight.

Cas was bathed in the moon's full light, the window where the light passed through behind him, a picture of a saint, halo wings and all. He thought the saint looked awfully like Cas.

It was a surreal scene. One he was stunned into, and it wasn't broken until Cas's quiet voice came through.

"Dean."

"Cas". Dean replied, his voice croaked, his throat sore and weakened.

"Are…*cough*… you okay Cas?" Dean questioned carefully raising his head, eliciting a reflective response from Cas, who brought more pillows to support Dean's head.

"I am fine Dean. On the other hand, I have failed you and your brother. I promised your brother I would keep you safe. I failed in that." He solemnly said, his voice as though on the verge of cracking, his eyes moving away from Dean for the first time.

Dean realized that Cas was _blaming himself._ He knew he had to fix this. It wasn't his fault.

"Cas…It wasn't your fault…cough… I put myself in harms way… to protect you…I saw a wendigo go for your back….and…and…" He began hyperventilating, until Cas steady hands reappeared within his vision, touching his cheek, he stared at Dean with eyes of amazement and dawning realization.

"You? You put yourself in danger because you wanted to protect me?" Cas struggled to utter each word. As though he hardly believed it.

"Yeah, I wasn't gonna let a two-bit wendigo have you as dog kibble, besides it takes two to tango in a relationship. Who says I am not allowed to back ya up? " Dean grinned. Knowing his cheek humor would set his angel at ease.

"Dean, what you did was very foolish. I would have healed any attacks upon my persons. I am also, more capable of protecting than you are." Cas countered, his slight cheek movement betraying his inner feeling of relief at his hunter's present antics, before growing dark.

"Dean, I expended every bit of Grace I had at that moment of attack and in healing what I could in fear for your safety. Please respect my wish to protect you. I…cannot fathom losing you."

"I know Cas…to tell you the truth. That is why I put myself out there for you….I fear losing our relationship." Dean admitted, with rather resigned face, as though admitting to weakness was a sign of failure.

"You will always have me Dean." Cas whispered, moving one of his hands to his mark on Dean and the other to message Dean's forehead.

"I have not been able to contact your brother within the bunker…The phone says there is no reception." Cas paused in his actions, contemplating, a head tilt adding to the flare. "I believe I may be able to carry you to the Impala, as soon as you feel better." He added.

"Wa?...cough… No man, no. I want to walk on my own…cough… damn feet damn it!" Dean flared in brief anger, before his chest hitched, his own body betraying his real feelings on the matter.

"You are in no condition to begin walking, let alone without assistance. I will carry you to the Impala and I will pull the knowledge of how to drive from you, whether you are awake for it or not. I would prefer you were." Cas added further, as though this was no real surprise.

"No! Not my baby!" Dean grimaced, all thoughts of being carried bridal style forgotten.

Hours later, at the crisp of dawn, a twilight, of light attacking the dark of night, its tendrils sweeping through.

Dean felt better, if better could be used. He breathe much easier, although he still coughed, at least it didn't feel like he was breathing through a straw every time he hefted a few sentences out of his mouth. He defiantly had some bruised ribs if not broken ones, maybe even some lung damage.

"Are you ready Dean?" Cas asked, curling his hands protectively around Dean. One around his chest, mindful of his injuries and one under his knees, in preparation for lifting him off the medical bed.

"Yeah, lets get it over with." Dean reluctantly accepted. Curling his hands around Cas's neck, and wrapping Cas's trench coat around him further, wrapping Cas's scent around him as he buried his head into the crook of Cas's neck. A total chick-flick moment.

He didn't mind it this time around though; he honestly loved being with Cas. He wished to spend every freaking moment he could with him, even if it may not be humanely possible.

Bracing himself, he felt Cas lift as gently as possible and slowly as well. After securing his grip, not due to lack of strength but more of position. Cas set off. Walking briskly through the rest of the forest, but short of making travel uncomfortable for his charge. He wanted badly to simply take hold of his angelic Grace and simply take him to the bunker. He however, could feel the toll of the latest series of activities. His Grace was diminished, but not gone, he would need to rest to recover it further.

Castiel Point of View Change

By the time, they returned to the hidden spot of trees where the Impala was parked, it's starling black beauty shining in the now gazing morning sun, awaiting them, Dean had fallen asleep.

Castiel was filled to the brim with relief, and felt more at ease seeing his hunter's face more at peace than before. The previous hours of beads of sweat matched with grunts of pain, which Dean clearly tried to hide were awful on his conscience, even with the brief talk he had with Dean. At least Dean wasn't dying, that soothe him the most.

Carefully, and respecting the hunter's privacy, Castiel reached into the depths of Dean's mind, searching for years of motor vehicle knowledge. He was pleased to find that Dean's mind accepted him eagerly, as though it knew him as a friend and lover, giving him an almost all access pass to many memories. Again, he resisted temptation, and simply shifted through John teaching Dean how to drive, and countless hours of driving with Samuel.

Satisfied that he now knew all the required materials for motor vehicle operation, he slipped Dean's car keys from Dean's jacket, opening the passenger door, and carefully unlocking it from within. He then opened the backseat door, leaning Dean inside, taking off his jacket and crumpling it into a pillow before allowing Dean's body to lay upon the back seats. As a final touch, he shifted his trench coat to be more of a blanket that it was before, and then after ensuring Dean was comfortable, he retreated back out closing the car door without a single peep, eager to keep Dean asleep.

Moving around, he entered the Impala on the driver's side in one motion., closing it after him. He then reached out, familiarizing himself, getting lost in Dean's memories of the Impala.

Finally, right before he plugged the keys into the ignition, he looked over upon Dean's sleeping form, assuring himself that, yes, Dean is still alive.

Calmly, he then started the Impala's engine over. Turning off onto the road, and headed home.

**SPN-**

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